The Moments In Between
by Adorn
Summary: A compilation of text sketches dedicated to Mihile/Eckhart. Not uploaded in chronological order unless otherwise stated as a two/three-parter in the chapter title. Irregular update pattern. M for possible future mentions of suggestive themes and alcohol. (Previously known as Black and White)
1. Hands

Hello everyone! I am alive!

Welcome to my third attempt at writing Maplestory fanfiction. To establish their personalities, as far as I've played, the instructors aren't given really given _too_ much personality to work off of, so please bear with me and my (mis)interpretations. I haven't played Friendstory yet, so there will probably be some inconsistencies.

Also, Eckhart has golden eyes in the Friendstory trailer and it's my absolute favourite look for him, so therefore he has golden eyes and tan skin in all the sketches.

Enjoy!

* * *

On cold, clear nights when they went stargazing in Ereve, Mihile insisted they hold hands. As much as he'd hate to admit it, Eckhart liked holding Mihile's hand. The warrior's hand always fit into his comfortably, holding his hand loosely enough that he didn't feel trapped, but tightly enough that he didn't feel like he was slipping away.

They never said much. The stars from the floating island were especially beautiful, and they twinkled brightly against the dark sky.

Though they had been together for nearly two weeks now, neither had even mentioned the topic of holding hands whenever they liked to outside of the barracks in the bright of day. That meant a public show of affection, and there was no way to be sure as to how their fellow knights, Neinheart, or their beloved Empress would react.

The only time Eckhart remembers holding Mihile's hand publicly, if only for a moment, was the morning following Oz's birthday party.

Hawkeye had tripped over Mihile in his drunken stupor after the booze-filled birthday party, sending them both to the ground. Oz burst into laughter and leaned onto Irene for support, holding her stomach. Eckhart had reached out his hand to help him up, and the contact had lasted a moment too long than as if he was just helping him up. Not many had noticed the faint, shy smile Eckhart had flashed Mihile, and the one he in return. (Even if anyone did see, they were all too drunk or hung over to even consider it anything more than a friendly gesture)

But for the time being, Eckhart was perfectly content to stay in the ease the stars at night brought, and bask in the soft feeling in his chest with Mihile's hand securely around his own.


	2. Bad Timing

One evening after classes were just about finished, Mihile approached Eckhart as he was stowing away his throwing stars. "Let me take you to dinner," he said straight-forwardly.

"What?" Eckhart gawked, golden eyes going wide.

"Classes are over, so let me make dinner for you tonight,"

Eckhart glanced at his lingering students. Some were covering their mouths, their entire body painted surprised. Others looked ready to explode, faces pink and giddy.

"Mihile, now _really _isn't the right time to be asking,"

"It isn't? The sun's setting. I already have a meal all planned out and ready to go,"

Eckhart slapped a hand to his face, so thoroughly embarrassed that he wanted nothing more than to disappear. "_Mihile,"_he hissed, forcefully grabbing and turning him around so their backs were faced to his students, "My students are still here,"

Mihile made a face. "So what?"

"You can't just." Eckhart stammered, "You can't. Just. Forget it." He pushed him aside and ran away, face ablaze.

"So dinner's a no?" Mihile called after him, crestfallen.


	3. I Think I'm in Love

Prompted by:  
"I think I'm in love." "Must be uncomfortable." over at putthepromptsonpaper on Tumblr.

* * *

"I think I'm in love," Eckhart admitted with a defeated sigh.

"Hm. Must be uncomfortable," Irena mused with a smile.

The two were meeting up as they usually did every third Sunday of the month for afternoon tea in one of Ereve's more quiet gardens. It was perfect weather to be out and about; the sky was dappled with fluffy white clouds and a gentle breeze occasionally swept through the garden. The sun shone brightly, though its rays did not bother the pair who were sheltered by a large tree.

Irena set down her teacup and leaned forward, resting her chin on the palms of her hands. "Who?" she asked, eyes shimmering with curiosity in the sunlight.

"You know I won't tell you who," Eckhart said, rolling his eyes a little. "I don't want this to-"

"-to become a big deal," Irena finished with a dramatic flourish. "I know, Eckhart. I was wondering if you'd let me at least know their name this time." She took a sip from her green tea before setting it back down and eyeing him through her thick eyelashes. "You won't answer any of my questions about them, then?"

"I suppose I could," Eckhart said, watching her reaction. "Only yes or no, though."

"Hm," she hummed thoughtfully. "Do I know them?"

"Yes."

"Female?"

"No."

"Huh. Are they a thief class?"

"What's with that look?" Eckhart asked, folding his arms. "No, they aren't."

"Pirate, then?"

"No."

"Warrior?"

"Yes."

Irena subtly waggled her eyebrows. "I knew you had a type," she said with a grin. "You like them muscular, huh?"

"I don't," he stuttered, laughing lightly. His cheeks were pink with embarrassment and his hand twitched towards his mask which he had set aside. "I don't have a type,"

"Okay, sure," she replied with a laugh of her own. "Still want to answer some more questions?"

"Maybe later," he said, refilling his cup with coffee from a pot on the table and adding a cube of sugar. "These scones are really good," he said, taking one and offering another to her.

"I know, right?" she gushed, taking it. "I got them fresh this morning from one of my students. They said that they're going to open a pastry shop in West Henesys after they graduate from my classes."

"That's sounds nice," Eckhart replied, glad for the shift in conversation. "If they can pass your final exam, that is. That final shot in last year's exam was nigh impossible for anyone but you."

Irena laughed. "I made it a little easier this year, but we can't go too easy on our students, you know."

"They'll think we're soft." Eckhart agreed.

"As soft as this scone," Irena said, laughing again.

They both had a good chuckle and continued to chatter for the rest of the afternoon until all the coffee and tea had been drunk and the pastries mostly eaten.

"This person has to be someone special if you're coming to me about them, Eckhart," Irena said as she got up to put away the unfinished pastries into a small basket. "I hope it goes well for you."

"Yeah," he replied, idly stirring the last of his coffee. "Me too."

* * *

Eckhart takes his coffee black or with one sugar if he feels up for it. Irena drinks green tea almost exclusively.

Writing this, I realized how much I hate writing full-grown women as giggling instead of laughing. It reads so weirdly, especially for Irena. Yuck.

I think I've always considered Eckhart demiromantic.


End file.
